


War Dogs and Shovel Tricks

by Doomsayer (owwfeels)



Series: Crash/Burn/Repeat [1]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Disabled Character, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jacob/Dep is endgame, M/M, Permanent Injury, Staci/Dep is one sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owwfeels/pseuds/Doomsayer
Summary: Cain came home from one war in pieces... He takes a job with the Hope County Sherriff's Department with the promise that the work would be quiet and low stress because "nothing bad ever happens in Hope County"... But all of that goes up in smoke with the wreckage of their crashed helicopter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first part of a three-part series I'm working on. Jacob/Cain is end game. I'm messing around with the timeline a lot. There is a prequel to this that follows John throughout his wild college days and finding Jacob. And a sequel that brings all of John's issues to light as a result of the events of the first two fics.

“Is this Mr. Staci Pratt?” the voice of the phone seemed… rigid and formal. He sighed and rubbed his temples… hoping it wasn’t a bill collector.  
  


“Speaking…” Pratt sat down on the couch, still wrapped in a towel after scrambling out of the shower to answer his phone.  
  
  
“Mr. Pratt I am calling to inform you of the status of a Mr. Cain Garrison,” he felt his heart drop into his shoes…. He had only received a few letters from him since he’d been deployed… and those had stopped a couple months ago…. And he hadn’t thought anything of it until that moment… nearly dropping the phone.  
  
“I-i-is he all right? Is Cain alive?”   
  
“I’m afraid I can’t give you that information over the phone Mr. Pratt… I just need to make arrangements for one of our officers to meet with you in person,” the female voice on the line now sounded sickeningly sweet… it made him nauseous… made his hands shake.   
  
“I’m home now… I’ll be here… just… I need to know he’s ok please,” Staci could feel his pulse thumping, body jittery and unable to sit still.   
  
“Your address is still 14 Lupine Dr?”  
  
“Y-yeah… that’s the correct address.”  
  
“And officer will be at your home address by this afternoon sir. You have a good day now,” how she could keep such a tone with what she’d just asked of him. Unfortunately, the mail, and Cain’s last letter, would arrive first.   
  
**‘** ** _Dear Staci,_** ** _  
_****_If you’re reading this then… it’s not likely I’ll be coming home… and I’m sorry that this is how you’re hearing about this. I wanted to apologize Stace… I’m so sorry for the things I said to you before I left. I was… Jealous. And I… had been jealous for a while. I…  Ever since we were kids I knew. I knew when I told you I was leaving for deployment. When I insisted that you stay with… ah shit I don’t even remember that asshole’s name anymore. I hope you’re not still with him… He was a dick Staci… I just… I wanted you to be happy so I left.’_** ** _  
_****_  
_** Pratt felt his eyes starting to well up with tears…. This was Cain’s confession he supposed… his last wishes. And they’d been sent to him… Cain had chosen him. Even if the words were starting to blur and his tears dropping on the paper, he kept reading. **  
****  
****_‘I left so you could be with your boyfriend and my jealousy wouldn’t impose on your relationship. But fuck if I didn’t want to just punch that little weasel in the face, Staci… I loved you so much. So… so much. Even then … even way back in middle school. I just… I didn’t know that that was what I was feeling… I was fucking stupid Stace. And I know this is the worst fucking time to tell you this… the worst way to be hearing this information… But I don’t want to die in this sandy fucking hell hole without telling you._** ** _  
_****_  
_****_I love you, Staci Pratt. And I want you to be happy…. Even if that’s without me ok? Don’t… don’t be all fucking dramatic and be all ‘woe is me my best friend died’ ok? Cut that shit.’_** __  
__  
He nearly dropped the letter as he snorted… leave it to Cain to be so crass and blunt about the whole thing. But … that was his best friend… blunt and spiky… but strangely endearing. He desperately wiped at his eyes and flattened the letter on his dining room table, the edges soft and rumpled from his sweaty hands.   
  
**‘** ** _We’re driving out to overtake a base tonight… And… I hope this makes it to you before you get the call I didn’t make it… I didn’t want you to find out like that. I don’t have much to my name …. But whatever is left is yours ok? Don’t let that shitty ass boyfriend of yours look through my shit. And take care of yourself or I’ll haunt your ass, Staci Pratt._** ** _  
_****_  
_****_Love,_** ** _  
_** ****_Cain_ __

Staci couldn’t hold the letter any longer, crumbling into a pile on the floor, sobbing. He laid there for a long time, staring at the dusty underside of his kitchen table, swiping at his running nose and watery eyes with the back of his arm. He sprang up, cracking his forehead on said table as the doorbell rang. With a whimper he shuffled and opened the door, color draining from his face at the somber man standing at his door in full dress uniform.   
  
“Mr. Pratt?”   
  
“Sir… come in,” the air in the room seemed to be sucked out as the officer stepped in, his cap tucked carefully under his arm out of respect, crips white-gloved hands surprisingly absent of the usual flag. He pulled the chair out from the table and sank down in the closest one, the officer politely declining. 

  
“Mr. Pratt I am here on behalf of Sergeant Cain Garrison. He has indicated you are his next of kin?” he didn’t realize at first that the officer was looking for confirmation.    
  
“Y-yes… we … He lived with my family since he was 15… Moved in when his parents died. He’s the closest thing to family I have,” Staci was shaking now, trying desperately to clasp his hands in his lap to curb the anxiety.    
  
“He has indicated that if anything were to happen to him that we were to consult you,” gloved white hands moved, carefully setting the cap on the table and opening a leather folder. There was a bunch of paperwork and medical files… And Staci was full body trembling… why was this dragging on…   
  
“Sergeant Garrison was escorting his troops when his humvee was attacked with a roadside RPG. The vehicle was mostly destroyed and Sergeant Garrison suffered severe injuries as a result. 40% burns along the right side of his body and a transfemoral amputation of the right leg,” the officer was reading from what looked to be Cain’s medical chart. He pushed the document across the table so that Staci could read through it himself.

  
“I-I don’t understand… is he alive? C-can I see him?” his nerves were too shot to process any of what he’d been told.    
  
“He’s being treated at the veteran’s hospital in the next county over.  He’s been in a medically induced coma for the past two months while his wounds and burns healed. But we’re approaching his discharge date soon and…”   
  
“He needs someone to take care of him?” Pratt interrupted, so fucking happy just to hear Cain was alive he couldn’t contain himself.

“Sergeant Garrison requires assistance with his medication and mobility. We will provide a daily nurse for assistance, but he needs someone to be with him outside of that,” the officer confirmed, taking Cain’s chart and putting it back in his folder.   
  
“Yes. Yes of course…” It wasn’t even a question. This was his best friend.   
  
“I just need you to sign this; giving us permission to move in a hospital bed and any necessary supplies, and indicating you’ve agreed to his care,” Staci’s hands were shaking so badly his signature looked far worse than usual. Just a bunch of scribbles at almost.   
  
“Hopefully I have alleviated some of your anxiety sir. Sergeant Garrison is a good soldier. He saved four of his other squad members before the humvee exploded…” the man stood up, tucking his hat back under his arm, and giving a small smile. Pratt nodded… that sounded about right. Self-sacrificing to the point of putting his own life in danger. Stupidly crawling back into a burning and partially exploded humvee to save his fellow men.     
  
“We will be in touch with you by the end of the week to move everything in and get him situated.”  He only managed a nod, numbly following the man back to the door and locking at once he’d left. Pratt collapsed against the door and buried his head in his hands, crying. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling; Cain was alive. But he’d apparently been very close to dying in that ‘sandy fucking hellhole’.    
  
Pratt fell asleep propped up against the door, chin resting in his hands, back aching from the position he’d fallen asleep in. He whimpered as he felt the door open and bump into him… confused for a moment as to how it was opening when he’d locked it.     
  
“Good mornin’ sunshine,” Hudson pushed her way in, sticking the house key he’d given her in her pocket, and plopping down on his couch; she was laughing, double fisting two cups of coffee, hand holding one out for him. “Earth to Staci?” she was in his face now, waving a hand back and forth.    
  
“Cain…. Cain is coming home.”   
  
“And yet you look like someone kicked a puppy…” she shoved the cup of coffee in his hand, urging him to drink it.    
  
“I… I got his last wishes this morning… mailman beat the army officer here. He… it explained why he’d chosen to join the army… why he left,” the coffee was trembling in his hands now.    
  
“Spit it out Pratt,” Joey took the cup and coaxed him down to sit beside her on the couch. Staci seemed to be off in space somewhere… Staring at the front door.    
  
“I’m an idiot…”   
  
“Ok? Tell me something the whole department doesn’t know,” she smirked, trying to lighten the mood some, but he wasn’t having any of it.    
  
“He left because I started dating Alex…. He left because... “ he couldn’t finish. The guilt … mostly misplaced but … not unfounded, made his throat tighten. Feeling responsible for Cain being hurt… nearly dying. 

  
“Hey. You said he was coming home though?” she was trying to keep up with his rambling train of thought. She set her coffee down and grabbed his hands in an attempt to get him to focus.    
  
“He is… they… the officer came by with a whole bunch of paperwork and Cain’s medical chart. He’s… it’s bad Joey.” Pratt crumbled against her chest and let the tears flow, Hudson’s reluctant hands rubbing against his back.    
  
“But he’s alive… He’s alive and he’s going to come home,” She softly rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.    
  
“I-I know… I know. I just feel like… if maybe I had realized… maybe he wouldn’t have enlisted.” When Hudson didn’t respond to him he pulled back to look up to her… seeing her disapproving stare.    
  
“That kind of thinking isn’t going to do anyone any good. You just gotta focus on now and getting him back to his old self,” she patted his shoulder and sat him up.    
  
“Just gotta focus on the future probie,” Hudson smiled and patted his hair, helping him sit up and pressing the cup of coffee back into his hand. “Take the next couple days off. I’ll let Earl know what’s going on.”    
  
He could only nod, bewildered as she disappeared out the door as suddenly as she had arrived. He realized then he was supposed to work that day… sighing as he sipped the coffee.


	2. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain's arrival isn't exactly how Staci imagined it.

“Good morning Officer Pratt sir,” a young cadet had knocked on his door a few days later, the loud beeping of a truck backing in rattling around in his brain as he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “We’re here with Sergeant Cain’s medical supplies.”    
  
“Oh yeah… yeah of course…. I cleared out the bedroom for him. It’s straight back, the door is open,” Pratt yawned and pulled the front door opening, motioning for the young man to come inside.    
  
“Thank you sir. We should be in and out in 30 minutes sir,” he gave a curt nod and returned to the truck as the door slid open. Staci, however, went back to his coffee pot and nursed two cups of it until he felt like a functioning human again. His nerves were shot. He hadn’t slept well since finding out Cain was coming home…. He was so nervous… he hadn’t seen Cain in five years. And even then it was just a video call. He hadn’t been back to Hope County since he deployed…. 10 years.   
  
“All set up sir. All of the walking aides are in your closet, and we have also set your bathroom up to better accommodate,” the cadet from earlier, now slightly sweaty and panting, explained. The hospital bed had also been set up in the middle of the room.  IV poles and boxes of medical supplies beside them.    
  
“A nurse will be coming with Sergeant Cain in a couple hours to explain all his needs. And she’ll come back once a day to help with medications,” Staci just nodded, not fully processing everything. He swore he didn’t even breathe until the movers had driven away and he was sitting in his best friend’s new room.   
  
The next two hours consisted of Staci fussing over everything. Making sure the path from the front door to the bedroom was clear. Making sure the bed was made neatly. Organizing and reorganizing the supplies he’d been given.  When the knock finally came…. His knees almost buckled in on themselves. It took Pratt a moment to make it to the front do and to pry it open… the door feeling like a lead weight.   
  
“Good afternoon Mr. Pratt,” a cheery nurse in bright pink scrubs smiled up at him.    
  
“Afternoon,” he nodded, looking around her for where Cain was… expecting him to be there.    
  
“Mr. Garrison is still in the car. I just… wanted to brief you on his condition. Is it ok if I come inside?” he nodded, leaving the door open as they moved over to the couch.    
  
“So you’ve seen his medical chart. But … what that isn’t going to tell you is his mental state. He has been having PTSD attacks pretty regularly… They’ve gotten better with medication and therapy but it’s likely to be something he struggles with for the rest of his life. As far as his physical state is concerned… He still isn’t able to walk without assistance. It’s taken time for the leg wound to heal and he hasn’t been fitted for a prosthetic yet. The burns are healing well. I’d say we’re at about 98%,” he just nodded, feeling his throat tighten up.    
  
“If you’re ready I’ll bring him in?”    
  
“Y-yeah… yes,” Pratt followed her to the door, watching her open the door to the small compact car. The wheelchair was rolled around first and then she helped Cain into the chair… Pratt’s first look at him making his stomach twist in knots. It was really Cain… It took every ounce of self-control he had to stay the door and not run out to greet him.    
  
“Pratt…” Cain wouldn’t look him in the eye as the nurse rolled him inside. A stab of guilt twisted itself in Staci’s gut… Cain never used to call him Pratt… not even when they were fighting…   
  
“Cain,” his eyes burned as he tried to keep himself from crying, the nurse sensing it and walking past into the bedroom. She helped him into the bed and got him situated before coming back into the living room, closing the door behind her.    
  
It was then that Pratt just… deflated. The pint-sized nurse tried her best to catch him as his knees buckled and the air evacuated his lungs. He felt hands on either side of his face and just faintly heard her voice instructing him to breathe. And he did… sucking in shuddering breaths as he sat there in the floor… the weight of everything crushing him.        
  
“You’re ok. Breathe with me, Mr. Pratt… that’s it,” the nurse stayed like that until his breathing leveled off and he calmed some, snuffling and whimpering still.    
  
“These next few weeks are going to be difficult but you can get through this. He chose to come home to you for a reason, Mr. Pratt, remember that,” she smiled sweetly, getting him settled on the couch with a glass of water before leaving for the night. He fell asleep there … too much of a coward to face him.    
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Pratt...  _ Pratt _ …” Staci startled awake sometime later, heart pounding, the voice - Cain’s voice- coming from his old bedroom. He scrambled to his feet and burst through the door, his eyes bloodshot and heart hammering.    
  
“Areyouok? W’as wrong?!” he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes flicking around the room, looking for anything obviously out of place.   
  
“Dude. Chill the fuck out. I… I just need to piss,” Cain’s mouth crinkled up at the corners. Even after 10 years, Staci was still like an over-exuberant puppy. Skidding into the room at the slightest hint of distress.   
  
“Oh. _O_ _ h! _  Right…” but Pratt found himself frozen in place with uncertainty.    
  
“Just help me up. Tired of that fucking chair,” Cain tossed his covers back and swung his leg over the bed. Most of the right side of his body was covered in bandages, bits of scar tissue peaking out in places, the left relatively unscathed except for the IV. Staci swung the IV pole around and slid up under Cain’s left side, letting him lean on him and the pole for support.    
  
“Do you want to sit-”   
  
“It ain’t nothing you haven’t seen Pratt…” Cain sighed, unsure of how to go about doing this in the least awkward way possible… short of asking Staci to hold his dick.    
  
“Just… hold my sides?” Staci settled his hands around Cain’s waist, freeing up his good hand and allowing him to use the restroom and wash his hands. They shuffled back to the bed in silence and Staci hovered, unsure of what to do now.    
  
“Do you… do you need anything?”    
  
“I’m kind of hungry,” Cain cleared his throat and picked at the scratchy hospital blanket, purposefully avoiding the elephant in the room. Pratt scurried off and returned sometime later with fried eggs and some toast. They both knew Staci could just about burn water, but breakfast he could do rather well and he was trying.    
  
“The … um… the nurse is coming to give you your medication and everything…” Pratt was starting to feel his own panic start to build up again, the tension in the room had become overwhelming.    
  
“Pratt... We should talk,” Cain went ahead and broke the ice, patting the bed and motioning for him to sit.    
  
“Ok… ok let-let’s talk,” he nodded and slowly sat down on the end of Cain’s bed, sitting on his hands to keep them from trembling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this as a bit shorter than the first chapter but I wanted their first moment kind of meeting for the first time to have its own space.


	3. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain is bad at feelings. And Staci is just desperate to have his friend back.

  
“I’m… I’m guessing you go my letter…” And just like that, it felt like the floodgates opened and the tension was sucked out of the room.   
  
“I’m sorry Cain…If I had known…”   
  
“Don’t. That isn’t- that’s not why I wrote you that letter,” Cain leaned up and grabbed his friend’s hand, not really able to reach without tugging on his IV. Pratt turned and took his hand, holding onto it like a lifeline to ground himself. “I just…. I didn’t want to die knowing I hadn’t been honest with you… and with myself. I still lo-I still care about you. You’re my best friend.  The only person I really have left in my that’s worth a damn…”   
  
Staci made a strange hiccuping sound, squeezing his hand tightly, trying not to cry. He rubbed his thumb along the back of Cain’s hand, his cheeks wet with tears as his resolve crumbled. “I thought… When I got that letter I thought you had died. I thought…” He shook his head and fell quiet again.   
  
“I won’t apologize for sending it, because I needed you to know, but… I wish it had gotten here after me. That I could have told you in person instead,” he set himself up a little straighter, swinging his foot over the bed and bumping up against Staci’s side. “I know that you don’t feel the same and it’s ok. You were happy with whatever his name was and it wasn’t my place to intrude.”   
  
Pratt opened his mouth to argue but, as always, Cain was right. That isn’t to say that he didn’t love him- he absolutely did. But it was more in a familial way. He didn’t bother correcting him about his ex-boyfriend… that was a conversation they needed to have later. Too much to get into now… with him just coming home and still recovering “I’m sorr-”   
  
“Stop apologizing. You can’t help how you feel and I can’t help that I developed feelings,” he waved Staci off, almost thankful for the interruption when the nurse knocked on the front door.   
She came in with a bag for additional supplies and a folder of reading material for Staci. Mostly just instructions and side effects for all the medications; symptoms to watch out of overdose or allergic reactions; More for him to worry about with Cain’s health.   
  
“Ok Mr. Garrison we’re gonna change your bandages today so I can show your friend here how it’s done,” he just gruffed in response, knowing this was going to hurt. Pratt moved to the other side of the bed and offered his hand. Cain took it, squeezing it tightly as she started peeling the old bandages off, revealing the pink healing skin.   
  
“These look good,” she soothed as he sucked in a breath, her soft hands rubbing some of the antibiotic ointment onto the, mostly healed, burns. He nodded, not finding the air to respond as he squeezed the life out of Staci’s hand.   
  
“All done!” She smiled brightly after she finished wrapping fresh bandages and injected a low dose of pain medicine into his IV. “I’ll be back tomorrow. You guys enjoy your day!”   
  
“Sorry…” Cain murmured and let go of Pratt’s hand, the skin already darkening.   
  
“S’fine,” he waived it off and rubbed at the purple spot; it was nothing compared to Cain’s injuries. A mere bruise compared to all the trauma he’d been through. Staci sighed and busied himself making sure everything was where Cain could reach it. “I’m gonna crash on the couch for a while… if you need anything just yell.”   
  
\--------------------------------------   
The next few weeks were much of the same. Bandage changes, medication, awkwardly skating around their issues. Cain struggling with the new prosthetic and all of the new found freedom that came with that. Staci had even taken him along for a day at the station. Even managed to get in a few rounds at the firing range.   
  
“Thanks for letting me tag along _Probie_ ,” Cain snorted. He’d been busting Pratt’s balls all day for Hudson’s nickname. Even though he’d been with the Hope County Sheriff’s department for almost 5 years… he was still technically the newest person. And Hudson reveled in reminding him of it every chance she got.     
  
“For the record… I’ve worked with all of them for the last 5 years,” Staci took a swig from his beer and knocked it against Cain’s. It was officially his first beer since he’d finished the bulk of his medication.   
  
“And yet you still let them push you around?” Pratt scowled at him… but he did have a point. Staci was a doormat and people would walk all over him without much protest. It was just in his nature to be a people pleaser.   
  
“It’s not like that Cain… I just… It’s easier to not make any waves. I’ve got a good job there,” he could feel his friend judging him and smiled as he took another drink. “Besides… after today maybe you’ll be probie someday.”   
  
Cain stiffened a bit… unsure of _how_ that would work. Would they even hire him? Did he _want_ to get back into something so soon? And then he just felt guilty for wasting Pratt’s time… for taking up his space. “I… I don’t think I’m ready for that Stace… Not so soon.“   
  
“Hey hey hey… no. I _wanted_ you to go with me to meet everyone and see the station. But it wasn’t to goad you into jumping into something you aren’t ready for. I just ... “ he paused, trying to swallow down the knot that had clumped in his throat. “If and when you wanna get back to work you have a job with the Sheriff’s Department. But … _when_ is up to you Cain.”   
  
He nodded, seeing how anxious Staci had become, and leaned back against his pillows. He sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling like he’d made everything just that much worse. He’d made his best friend suffer through his night terrors and his years of wondering where he was and how he was doing. And Pratt did. After 10 years he welcomed Cain back without even a second thought. “I know you’re just looking out for me … Don’t sweat it”

  
They knocked back a couple more beers and crashed on the couch for the night, Staci half sprawled in Cain’s lap and open-mouthed snoring by morning. Cain, on the other hand, had slept surprisingly well; comforted by the weight and warmth. “Hey sleepin’ beauty get up. I gotta piss.”   
  
Pratt startled, his jaw clicking shut as he fell into the floor with a soft _ooph_ . Cain nearly doubled over from laughing so hard, gracefully stepping over his glaring sleep addled friend and shuffling off into the bathroom. Staci laughed once he was awake enough to realize what had happened and curled up in the floor to go back to sleep.   
  
They fell into a comfortable routine. After a couple months of rehabilitation most of the medical stuff had been picked up, the bed gone, and now they just shared the old bed. It helped with Cain’s nightmares and Staci wasn’t ashamed to admit he slept better too.  Things continued to settle. Pratt went back to work and Cain continued with his physical therapist and his psychologist.

After a year and a half of extensive therapy with his psychologist, his physical therapist, and Pratt, he’d started working at the police station. Just paperwork to begin with; Easy things. He would only go out on patrol with Staci… the locals now rumbling about some ‘cult’. They’d had a few issues with a Seed family. Mostly noise complaints and disgruntled neighbors. That is until the video surfaced of Joseph Seed gouging some man’s eyes out with his thumbs. And all at once it seemed like the shit hit the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of worried this moved too quickly but I didn't think it would make much sense to go on and on about the recovery too much? The initial meeting/interaction with Jacob is coming next :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain gets tossed into the fire... literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to get into the good stuff. My end goal is for this Jacob to be a lot ... softer? He's got a rude awakening coming in the next chapter :D

Marshall Burke, as he was so fond of reminding everyone, had shown up a few days later. Warrant, and an attitude, in hand. A stranger coming into something he had no understanding of. To say Cain was concerned would be an understatement… this felt unsettling. Like something was coming. Like everything was about to go tits up and he could only hang on for the ride. The week leading up to their departure flight had nearly worn a hole in his stomach. Cain hadn’t slept, he’d barely eaten, and he looked worse than when he had come home from deployment. 

“Hey… are you all right to do this today? You look like shit Cain,” Pratt had brought him breakfast, and a round of painkillers, in bed.

“I just want this over with Stace… I didn’t fight all those years overseas to come home to this in my own backyard…” he groaned. The weight of food in his stomach made him nauseous. But he had a job to do… and he’d be damned if he was going to let this cult bullshit stretch on one day longer than it had to. He was nearly trembling as they loaded into the helicopter… but Cain wasn’t going to turn back now.

“This is your last chance to turn around Marshal…” Whitehorse spoke up, the hum of the helicopter made his nerves jittery. Staci was flying so that left Cain in the back with the Marshal and Earl. His left leg was bouncing hard enough to make the ammunition bag on the floor rattle. 

“Take a chill pill probie. In and out. This will be easy,” Burke was all teeth and ego. Cain just stared out the window and tried to calm himself. This man was hellbent on serving his warrant and there wouldn’t be anything easy about it. Just hearing this cocksure man come in and mock him made his blood boil. And Cain wasn’t sure if it was his anxiety putting him on edge or expectation of the worst case scenario. 

“You know, Marshall, they told us the same thing in Afghanistan…. And you know how well that went,” he growled under his breath, his fingers white-knuckled on the grip of his service pistol. Burke didn’t seem to have any witty comebacks for him and rolled his eyes instead, nearly bolting out of the helicopter as it landed. The weight of his prosthetic seemed unbearable the closer they got to the church. Pratt had stepped back beside him and touched his hand briefly, just enough to get him to refocus...and stave off the panic attack he’d felt coming on. 

“Hey…” Cain pulled his eyes up, searching, and finding Staci’s. 

“I’m ok,” he mumbled and shook his shoulders out… stomach in knots as Whitehorse moved to open the chapel doors. 

“Let me do the talking,” Earl insisted… and they did. Cain lost a big chunk of time between then and closing the handcuffs around Joseph Seed’s wrists. He could hear murmurings… and he couldn’t tell if it was from the ‘peggies’ or Joseph or he’d just slipped into a PTSD episode. Once the screams started he couldn’t parse reality… until something heavy and blunt struck him across his throat. He tried to scream… tried to call out for help but no sound left his lips… only excruciating pain. As unconsciousness took him the last thing he felt was the weight of a hand tugging at his own as Pratt screamed in his ears. 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Staci Pratt was many things. A police officer, a faithful friend, a ‘probie’ ... But intimidating he was not. And he’d acquired the survival instincts of a domesticated hamster. As far as he could tell the worst of Cain’s injuries were the bruises on this throat, his prosthetic was all fucked up from the crash, and he’d been out cold since Staci had pulled him from the flaming wreckage. It could have been hours or days, but Pratt stumbling on his feet. He didn’t have the endurance to keep up at this pace. 

He pitched forward… pain lighting up along the back of his arm as he landed half on top of his friend. Something whizzed right past his ear and he watched the arrowhead embed itself in Cain’s left thigh. Hands pulled at his arms, pulled the unconscious man out from under him, and then darkness. 

Staci woke sometime later in a cage of some kind, his hands bound behind his back, some kind of gag stuffed in his mouth, and Cain nowhere in sight. A creeping wash of camouflage and filthy clothes startled him, a ‘peggie’ now standing in front of his cage with a large knife in his hand. 

“Jacob don’t take kindly to trespassers,” Pratt whimpered, groveling there in the cage… It didn’t matter what happened to him as long as Cain was all right. “And really don’t appreciate your little friend killing his men.” 

Cain? He couldn’t possibly mean him… “Yeah, your little friend has quite the attitude problem peaches. Killed four of Jacob’s chosen and disappeared into the woods. I guess you aren’t very important to him huh,” the man smiled, teeth jagged and unkind, laughing at the despair in the deputy’s eyes. “I take it by your reaction you didn’t expect him to desert you.” 

He shook his head as he tried, and failed, to keep himself from crying. “Aww it’s all right pup, Jacob’s gonna take good care of you … and your little friend too.” 

Pratt quickly learned that “taking care of him” meant he sat in his cage all day and, if he was lucky, one of the guards pissed on him or threw dog kibble through the bars. He had not met this “Jacob”... had not heard any word of Cain… Had not had anything to drink or eat since they’d left… was it yesterday? Or had it been two days? He spent what felt like a week in that dingy cage before Jacob came down to “assess his worth”. 

The militant older man had given him a short leash after that… cleaning bathrooms and filing paperwork. He’d become Jacob Seed’s bitch for all intents and purposes. He was too weak to be put through the training but useful enough that Jacob had decided he wouldn’t "cull the herd" and murder him. And that was just fine… as long as Cain was out of his hands. Then the whisperings started. Men were coming back with head contusions or bodies coming back with skulls and faces bashed in. Someone as overtaking Jacob’s territory piece by piece… with what was rumoured to be a shovel. 

Jacob had dispatched his Chosen after the second outpost fell into resistance hands...and four days later Pratt stumbles across Cain in one of the cages. His prosthetic was gone and Pratt was pretty sure his friend smelled like death. There was an arrow protruding from his left thigh and blood caked around where his prosthetic had been. Pratt worried himself over what to do… and Jacob removed his say in the matter as he approached Cain’s cage with a scowl on his face.


	5. Empathy is a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is unsettled when he learns he has more in common with the shovel-wielding deputy than he expected...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I finally feel like this is getting into a groove. I'm starting to reach the end of what I have finished so updates might be slower after the next chapter. This is a bit shorter but the bulk of Cain's backstory, and his closeness to Staci, is up next

“What’s your name kid?” Cain just gurgled, hands weak as they signed ‘help me’ at Pratt. Jacob watched the exchange curiously… unsure of what just transpired.

“Jacob… sir? He… He’s asking for help.” Pratt knelt down in front of the cage, wincing at the sight of angry black and purple bruise on Cain’s throat.

“You some kind of mind reader Peaches?”

“N-no, sir… He… he signed at me for help?” Pratt repeated the hand sign so that Jacob would know.

“You are just full of surprises pup,” the redhead glanced back at the deputy, noticing the blood on his pants, the nasty bruise on his throat, and the scars on his right side. He sighed…. By all means, he should just leave him there to rot. But his younger bro- _ The Father _ \- had insisted he needed this deputy alive.

“All right peaches…. Go ahead and get your little friend on his feet. Let’s see what he’s made of,” Staci nearly dropped the keys as he fumbled with them to open the cage door. Jacob was fully expecting the man to leap out of the cage and attack but Cain had barely moved.

 

“H-hey probie,” Staci knelt at Cain’s side, trembling hands feeling his sweat-soaked skin for a pulse. As the light shown on more of Cain’s face, Jacob took in the full extent of how badly the other man was scarred; most of the right side of his body covered in thick burn scars.

_ My leg…  _ Cain’s hands were quaking and weak as he signed; he was struggling just to keep his eyes open, let alone have a conversation. Staci furrowed his brow, scared by his friend’s weakness. He looked down, seeing the arrow shaft still protruding from Cain’s thigh…. But there was also blood around the top of his right thigh as well.

 

“His leg… his legs both appear to be injured, sir…”

“I can see that Pratt… why isn’t he talking?” Staci was close enough to see just how dark the bruise at his neck was… the mottled black and purple spanning across the entire front of his throat and around to the side.

 

“He… something must have struck his throat during the crash,” Cain wheezed and gurgled again as he started to convulse, Pratt panicking as he quickly rolled him onto his side and supported his head and looked up helplessly at Jacob… who seemed to just as shaken. He clicked on his radio and had whatever medic was closest to meet him at the cages  _ now _ . A few of them scurried in, pushing Pratt out of the way as they got to work.

As Pratt backed himself up against the cage wall he caught Jacob staring… Eyes fixed on Cain’s dog tags. They’d fallen out as they pulled and slid his shirt around to check for injuries.

 

“You…. You have some explaining to do peaches.” Jacob sounded…. Wounded. He stumbled slightly and coughed as he moved away from the cages and stomped back towards his room. Staci followed along reluctantly as the medics whisked Cain off to be treated.

Jacob had worn a path in the floor with his pacing… and Staci could only watch… unsure of what to do or say. He could almost hear the wheels turning in the older man’s head, his face contorted. He was even mumbling angrily under his breath. And Pratt had quickly drowned in the anxiety pouring off of him. As Jacob realized he’d let a fellow veteran, enemy or not, suffer… under his own watch.    
  
  
  
‘ _ It was your responsibility to make sure this didn’t happen .. To know who was in your cells and who was being conditioned… But you couldn’t even prevent this. And who’s fault is that?’  _ Pratt jumped as a fist busted through the plaster by the door and Jacob shook his hand off as blood dripped from his knuckles. 

 

”Sir…. You need to see this..” Jacob’s stomach dropped as the medic leaned in the doorway, uniform and hands covered in blood. 


	6. Jacob Done Fucked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob realizes he's kind of an asshole... and also realizes he has no idea how to fix the damage he's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! This is the end of what I have typed already. I think there are a few more chapters left after this. And then the ending of this will tie into the sequel I've already started. That will focus more on John at first (tying into the prequel some).

The walk into the infirmary felt like he was being taken to identify remains. What he found instead was the deputy laying on an exam table, most of his ruined clothes cut or torn away, the extent of his scars and his amputated leg exposed. He watched one of the other medics walk off with a prosthetic in hand…. Taking it to one of the mechanics he assumed. They weren’t exactly equipped to repair prosthetic legs but Jacob was sure his men would figure it out. But the leg apparently wasn’t what the medic wished to show him…. The cold weight of dog tags in his hand all too familiar.   
  


“He gets the best we have…. Is that clear?” Jacob swallowed, feeling nauseous. The sick feeling only worsened as he was shown Rook’s neck… the bruises a deep violet and black color, purple bleeding into the areas around where the impact was. And then he saw the bandaged remains of his right leg. 

 

“His larynx is fractured. Explains why he’s unable to speak. It will take time and rest, but it should improve. He’s on a high dose of pain medication at the moment and steroids to help with the inflammation. The infection is the biggest concern. The prosthetic he was wearing  rubbed the skin on his upper thigh raw and the open wounds are badly infected.” The medic fidgeted with the hem of her scrubs, dried blood flaking off as she wrung them together.

 

“And the burns?” Jacob had even realized he was rubbing his hand over his own scars, the shiny chemical burns rough under his fingers…

 

“They’re old. I would say several years at this point. Contact burns for the most part,” the medic had moved to fiddle with Cain’s IV as she spoke and glanced back over at Jacob before looking behind the taller man to make eye contact with Pratt.   
  


“Anything you wanna add Peaches?” Prat jumped… not expecting to be addressed. Jacob could swear he heard Staci swallow, feet shuffling as he moved to Cain’s bedside, the medic finishing and leaving them to alone.   
  


“He was deployed in 2002 to Afghanistan… H-he came home after his unit was ambushed on the road. The Humvee they were riding in was hit with an RPG. They… he came back home after 14 years of military service… honorable discharge,” Staci reached out and slid his hand into Cain’s, softly stroking the back of it with his thumb. He felt guilty…. Seeing him laid out like this… wounded and covered in bruises. Cain would still be home sitting on their couch if he’d never gotten him the job at the station.   
  


“And the sign language? Did you teach him _Peaches_?” Pratt couldn’t miss the sharp edge of the other man’s voice... unsure what was meant by it. Why Jacob seemed so bothered by the possibility that they had a relationship.  
  


“Ca-Rook moved in with my family when he was 15…. His parents died in a car crash and … since our families were close… he came to live with us,” trembling hands reached up and pushed some of the sweaty hair out of Cain’s eyes. “M-my mother was born deaf. So he learned it from our whole family really…”   
  


“And this?” Jacob made a vague gesture between Staci and Cain… his face neutral.   
  


“We never…. It wasn’t like that,” Cain whimpered, hand squeezing Staci’s tighter as he fought against the sedatives. Pratt couldn’t explain their relationship… They were kind of family…. Definitely best friends… Or… Or they were before Cain was deployed. Since he’d been home these past few years things had been … awkward; strained.   
  


“It wasn’t an accusation Pratt…. He obviously sought you out for a reason… regardless of what you call it … you mean something to him,” Staci was not expecting that harsh bit of truth from Jacob Seed himself… But it somehow stung even more. Jacob slouched into the chair closest to him with a sigh.   
  


“Apologies S-sir,” Pratt took him sitting as permission to do the same, scooting a chair up close to Cain’s bed and taking his left hand in his own.   
  


“Joseph won’t be happy about th-“

 

“ _ Hedoesnthavetoknow,”  _ Pratt nearly leaped out of his seat… chest heaving at the thought of what Joseph fucking Seed would do to his friend in such a condition…. Still terrified of what Jacob would do.   
  


“Your little friend is making you feisty  _ pup _ ,” Jacob’s tongue popped at the end of his sentence, eyes boring into Pratt’s as he shrank back down into his chair.   
  


“I-i…. tell him it was me. Tell him I destroyed his outposts… “

 

“Joseph knows it was your little friend. He knows what the deputy looks li-“

 

“Then just  _ fuckin- _ “ Staci froze, body sprung tight as the air seemed to be sucked out of the room.   
  


“ _ WATCH  _ your tone pup….” The older man growled, exasperated by the entire situation. His little ward was hiding something…. He wasn’t being honest, his whole body shuddering with nerves   
  


“Whatever he is to you it’s obviously more than just friends, Peaches,” Jacob shook his head, coughing sharply as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He could hear Staci suck in a shaking breath.   
  


“J-Just after high school I started dating my first boyfriend…. And not long after that Cain enlisted. I…. I never put two and two together back then. Not… not until I got the letter from him when he’d been injured.” Jacob sat back up and leaned in, intrigued by where this was going.   
  


“A-after the attack… they … he mailed me a letter outlining what his last wishes were… his confessions. I… received that a week or so before they’d called and told me he’d need somewhere to stay when he came home… To see if I was still willing to take him in. I-I didn’t even know I was his emergency contact… I…” Pratt was openly sobbing…. Face buried against Rook’s chest, clutching and stroking his hand.   
  


“Ah…. I see,” Staci looked up…. Expecting a sick smile or a laugh… But Jacob was staring distantly out the window, the corners of his mouth downturned into a frown…. Lost in thought. He had written his own letter much like that… Joseph and John had both received one when they’d declared him M.I.A. His stomach twisted at the thought…   
  


“Cain?” Staci’s voice was trembling and unsure, eyes pulling back to look at Cain’s face, hearing the pained noises his friend was making.   
  


_ ‘Stace’ _ he traced the word against Pratt’s shirt, too weak to lift his arms more than that.

  
“Hey,” he snuffled, laughing and sobbing at the same time… overwhelmed with having him here…  _ safe. Alive.  _   
  
_ ‘We gotta stop meeting like this… _ ’ Cain managed a smile… knowing the last time they’d met like this was when he’d come home after being discharged. He’d woken up in the hospital to Pratt hovering over him and clutching at his hand as if it was made of glass.   
  
  
“You really have shit luck man,” Pratt snuffled and wiped his nose on the back of his arm and sat up, glancing over at Jacob for some kind of visual cue. It was then that Cain noticed the eldest Seed brother standing off to the side watching them. 

  
“Deputy…” Jacob shifted on his feet, not moving any closer, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his shirt.   
  
  
‘ _ What the fuck … you should’ve just let me fucking die Pratt…’  _ Cain struggled to sit up, to swing his legs over the bed, but his body was having none of it. He crumpled back against the mattress, panting and sweaty from the exertion.   
  
  
“Sssh… You’re all right…” Pratt was also staring at Jacob now… looking for some kind of assurance that he wasn’t talking out of his ass…

 

“What did he say?”

 

“He…” Pratt shook his head, not willing to say it. Not willing to even think it. “He-he said we should have let him die.”  
  
  
Jacob let out a loud growl of frustration… rubbing his hands at his temples and pacing slightly. This was quickly spiraling out of hand and making him realize how fucked up things had gotten under his watch. He stopped in the middle of the medical bay and flipped one of the empty tables over, breathing whispy and labored. Staci whimpered and squeezed Cain’s hand. His barometer on what was happening shot… He’d never seen the older man so upset.  
  


“Pratt…” Staci snapped up, his back ramrod straight and looked over at Jacob with fear in his eyes. “I’m going… out. Look after your deputy and … keep an eye on things,” he turned heel and disappeared out the door… leaving Pratt gobsmacked. 


	7. Little Brothers Are Big Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob goes to John for help... John leaves Jacob more worried than when he'd arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this is slowly starting to weave in together to set up the sequel and also tie in bits of the prequel. Hopefully it wasn't too ooc for Jacob.
> 
> 6/9- edited. This was a mess I am sorry. New chapter should be up by tonight or tomorrow.

**[Jacob]: s.o.s**

**[John]: Jacob?**  
[John]: Jacob!!?  
[John]: Are you ok?  
**[John]: … I’ll be there in 20**  
  
Jacob threw the busted old flip phone into the floorboard of his truck. He’d only kept the damn thing because John had insisted on it. An agreement that if things ever got bad the other one was there. Jacob himself hadn’t utilized it much. John had been majorly unstable in the beginning… struggling with the drugs, alcohol, and his apparent penchant for slicing himself open. The eldest Seed had reached out on nights when his PTSD became too much. But, since they’d moved to Montana, things had been relatively stable.  
  


John had many more tattoos now than what he’d arrived with… but it was a fair trade for all the scars he’d made before. Jacob had the wolves now; he’d kill anyone before admitting they helped with the flashbacks and his irregular sleep. But John had established a neutral area anyway. There was a tiny cabin in between their territories, only reachable on foot, and hidden from everyone else.

  
Jacob had made it to the cabin in about five minutes. The walk through the woods after he’d parked the truck doing nothing to calm his nerves. He tried to sit down and wait for his brother… but his agitation made him pace back and forth in the small living room like a caged animal.

  
“Jacob?!” John nearly knocked the door down 15 minutes later, out of breath and clearly distressed. He didn’t have to look much for his brother as Jacob was still wearing a hole in the floor, wringing his hands together and mumbling to himself. “What’s going on?”

  
“I fucked up Johnny… I fucked up,” he scrubbed his hands through his hair and growled in frustration. “That deputy… the one that tried to arrest Joseph?”

  
“Yes… He’s been raising hell in your neck of the woods if the men are to be believed. I’m hearing a lot about a shovel Brother. And apparently one of my men saw him beat someone to death with his leg?”   
John almost smiled… but the trapped animal look on Jacob’s face kept his mouth downturned.

  
“He’s a fucking veteran John!” the redhead froze in the middle of the tiny cabin before he chucked his rifle into the floor in anger.  

  
“Oh… That can’t change anything, Jacob. You know how Joseph-”

  
“Fuck Joseph. Ok? Fuck him for abandoning you and fuck him for putting me in this position,” Jacob coughed and leaned against the table as his lung struggled to handle his elevated breathing. John stood there in a panic… unsure of how to help or what to do to fix this. Caught between the whims of his brothers.

  
“Let me talk to him? He’s more likely to listen to me,” that got him a glare… but John wasn’t wrong.

  
“I can’t- I will not enable him and his little crusade anymore; Not at the expense of a fellow veteran. Not-I can’t,” he shook head and closed his eyes, hand absentmindedly rubbing his chest to try and ease the ache that had settled there. John nudged his brother back into one of the kitchen chairs and poured him some water, not saying anything.

  
“What if I tell him I killed the deputy?” the corners of John’s lips tilted up ever so slightly as his leg bounced under the table.

  
“No! He would retaliate. He would take it out on you John. You know how he operates. You know what he did to his wife… he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if he felt you interfered with his little vision,” Jacob’s hands trembled as he sipped the water and watched the smug look on his brother’s face grow.

  
“He’d have to catch me first Jake,” he twirled the keys to his plane around his fingers and grinned.

  
“No… absolutely not,” the water sloshed slightly as Jacob sat it down in anger and crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t lose you again because of Joseph’s bullshit.”

  
“Then how exactly do you propose we solve this Jakey? Joseph has a way of getting the things he wants… no matter what the costs,” Jacob glared at John’s comment… pissed at how right he was. Pissed that there didn’t seem to be a way out of this without someone being hurt.

  
“Go back to your Deputy Jacob… I’ll take care of Joseph. We’ll meet here in a week. I’ll send you the usual message,” John had hopped out of his chair and disappeared out the door before Jacob could protest or even say goodbye.

  
The eldest Seed found himself alone in the tiny cabin again… heart heavy and head worried about what his little brother had planned. He dragged himself out of the rickety kitchen chair and stumbled over to the couch. He collapsed onto the dusty lump of green checkered fabric and slept until morning before heading back to the Veteran’s Center.

  
\-----------  
 **back at the Veteran’s Hospital**  
\-----------  
  


‘ _How could you?!’_ Cain signed angrily as he tried to sit up, but his body was a ball of pain and IVs.

  
“We … we haven’t been here that long Cain. And he… he’s not so bad?” Staci scrambled to press his friend back in bed as the IV pump chirped angrily at him; the lines getting jostled and bumped around.  
  


 _‘_ _He fucking captured us and threw us in a fucking cage Pratt… a fucking cage?!’_ Cain wheezed and squeaked as he tried to scream. Tears streamed down his face from the pain in his neck and throat… but he wouldn’t just lay here and not fight back.

  
“Ok… Ok that was fucked up. It was… but after that… he was very upset to learn how his men had treated you. Especially after he found out you were a veteran,” Pratt had to manhandle Cain to get him to lay back down.

  
‘ _Doesn’t make what he did any less fucking shitty Staci…’_ Cain swiped at the tears on his face and tried to calm himself.

  
“No… no… you’re right. But… he’s trying I think? Can we just… see what his plan is?”

  
‘ _When did you become Mr. Positive?? Ok. Fine. If… if you say he’s worth trusting then I believe you Stace…’_ he glared and gave up signing, his arms feeling heavy as whatever drugs were in the IV started to kick in again. Staci nodded and plopped down in the chair beside the bed and took his friend’s hand. The men in the hospital hadn’t bothered them. And all the medical staff seemed to be watching Cain’s monitors carefully. Pratt eventually fell asleep with his head on Cain’s chest, the other man sleeping in a doped-up haze peacefully.

  
Neither of them noticed when Jacob came in. He stood by the door and watched them for a moment, chest twisted slightly as they reminded him of Miller. “Pratt?” he was almost whispering, but Staci still jumped up.

  
“Y-yes Jacob?” he’d jerked away hard enough that it woke Cain up as well, and seeing the panic in his friend’s eyes made him nervous.

  
“I-I have made arrangements with John to handle the… situation with our Deputy,” it was only after he’d said it that Jacob realized how ominous his words could sound and he clarified, “My little brother is going to make sure nothing happens to your friend here.”  
  


‘ _So what does that mean for me?!’_ Cain huffed… frustrated by not being able to speak.

  
“He wants to know what that means for him,” Pratt explained.

  
“That means you’re safe to recover from your injuries here without having to worry about whatever Joseph’s “plan” is. I will not bring anymore suffering to a fellow veteran… regardless of where your loyalties lie,” Jacob couldn’t look at Cain as he spoke… embarrassed by his own honesty.

  
‘ _And what about my friends? What about Staci? Hudson?’_ Pratt translated as he signed, his chest tight and eyes watery.

“Hudson is with John as far as I know and Staci is obviously here. John will be busy with whatever his plan is… Hudson will be safe with him,” Cain glanced up at Jacob with doubt in his eyes… there was uncertainty in the older man’s eyes. Jacob looked over at the deputy and sighed, knowing he’d been had in a way… Cain was looking right through him.

  
“She will be safe as long as Joseph doesn’t… retaliate,” Jacob shuddered at the thought, knowing it would be his fault, that because he had asked John for help … he would be responsible for his little brother’s death.  

  
‘ _Would he really kill his own brother?’_  


_“_ Joseph murdered his own daughter Deputy… nothing gets in the way of my brother and his vision. Not even family,” Jacob had collapsed into the chair on the other side of Cain’s bed and rubbed his face.

  
‘ _You’re worried he’s going to kill John…’_

  
“Yeah… I am. But I will promise you this much Deputy… he hurts John I will kill him. Mark my words.” Jacob’s face was cold and void of any expression… but Cain could feel the anger rolling off him.  “And don’t think I wouldn’t have done the same if it were you either… No one hurts my little brother.”

  
‘ _I can… respect that. How’d you get those?’_ Cain motioned to Jacob’s arms and pointed at the mottled and scared flesh of his own arm.

  
“Our plane crashed. Partially exploded… Chemical burns from the jet fuel,” he shrugged. Seemingly unfazed by the question… but equally as curious about the other man’s war wounds.

  
‘ _Our Humvee was hit with an RPG. Got this in the first explosion,’_ he pointed to his arm and face, ‘ _When I went back to get more men out the gas tank exploded and pinned me in the wreckage… that’s when I lost the leg.’_ Cain flipped the covers back, seeing his leg had been redressed and bandaged.

  
“You get stuck in the VA too? They kick you out?” the guilt had started festering in his stomach. Their stories were too similar to be a coincidence. Jacob wasn’t into the whole fate thing… but it really seemed like Cain had ended up here for a reason.

  
‘ _Yeah… spent two months in a medically induced coma… and once they deemed me well enough to come out of it they threw me out. If … if it weren’t for Staci I’d have been homeless.’_   Pratt hiccupped as he translated for Cain. And it was then that the redhead understood the bond between them.

  
“You… were lucky. I spent a while on the streets before John found me,” the corners of Jacob’s mouth twitched upward ever so slightly. Cain nodded, feeling like they’d come to a mutual understanding of each other. The room passed into a comfortable silence before Jacob stood up.

  
“If you need anything this is my radio frequency. My men have been instructed to cause you no harm,” he handed Cain a piece of paper with scribbled numbers on it before he headed out the door.

 _  
‘That… Went better than expected,’_ Cain tried to laugh but winced instead as it hurt his neck.

  
“I told you,” Pratt grinned and got a face full of a pillow as Cain tossed it at him.   


	8. Old Dogs Can't Flirt for Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are changing around the Veteran's hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure about this chapter... I really struggled with Cain and Jacob's interaction. So hopefully it's passable. Possible sex scene coming up? Only one more chapter I think and then I'll start posting the sequel.

He whimpered and tossed in his sleep, body burning with fever, his whole body sore and raw. Both of his wounds had become infected and the antibiotics weren’t working as well as they should have. A large hand on his shoulder pulled him from the uneasy sleep, eyes wide as they found the eldest Seed standing there and not Staci. He sat up slowly, bewildered as he watched Jacob pull a pillow off the neighboring bed and prop it behind his back.   
  
“Here,” water and a couple of pills were pushed into his hand gruffly. “Should help with the fever.”  
  
Cain nodded and took them, hands trembling so bad the water sloshed onto the blanket. He had spent the last two weeks on bed rest. His wounds had finally started healing but the infection had still lingered and was hindering the fitting for his prosthetic and his recovery in general. He was hooked up to IV antibiotics now and fluids, but had mostly refused any kind of pain medication until Jacob had offered it.    
  
“The cages are empty.”   
  
“Empty?” he rasped and stared back at Jacob owlishly... He’d been trying to use his voice more. Single words and short conversations had been all he could manage, but it was a start after two weeks of signing.   
  
“The ones who wished to leave are gone. And anyone who wish to stay have been given rooms,” Jacob bounced his leg as he spoke, the tension in the room nearly palpable. Cain couldn’t imagine many people had remained, but he was honestly surprised he was even hearing this information.   
  
“Why?”  
  
“The “official” reason is that the reaping has been called off. Word has reached the father that John killed you apparently. It happened a week ago so I’m told. With you “dying” and all Joseph has relaxed his … stance,” Jacob’s jaw clenched as he spoke of his younger brother and clenched his hands into fists.   
  
“Being dead ain’t so bad,” he tried to laugh but winced and sipped at his water.   
  
“John is very good at what he does,” Cain noticed the slight upturn of Jacob’s lips as he spoke about John and canted his head, surprised at the contrast. To speak so highly of John and seem so angry speaking of Joseph… something must have happened there.   
  
“You care about him.” Cain sat up a little straighter and winced, the drag of the blanket on his wounds uncomfortable.  
  
“John is my baby brother. I … When we were younger I promised I would protect him. I went to jail for protecting him,” Jacob offered, not giving much more away, but from what he understood of the Seeds, the brothers had been through some pretty terrible abuse.   
  
“And Joseph?” Cain instantly regretted asking as the anger appeared on the redhead’s face, his whole body sprung tight.  
  
“Joseph was supposed to step up after I was arrested…. He was supposed to protect John when I left,” he shifted in the chair and tried to calm himself, but Cain could feel the anxiety rolling off the older man. He reached out for his hand, unsure of whether it was appropriate or wanted… and was surprised when Jacob actually took it. A smaller gesture, but it was significant in the moment.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Cain squeezed it softly and Jacob just nodded and didn’t say anything else. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Staci came in to check on them. Jacob nearly yanked his hand back and shoved it in his pocket, trying to act like he hadn’t been holding hands.  
  
“The uh men have grilled up some deer sir and wanted to let you know it was ready,” Pratt smiled over at Cain and plopped on the edge of the bed. Things had just been… lighter lately. And he didn’t want to think him “dying” had done it, but it really seemed that way.   
  
“You up for a walk?” Jacob stood abruptly and grabbed the crutches the nurses had left. Cain nodded and tossed the covers back as he slid to the edge of the bed. His left leg was still a little weak and he couldn’t wear his prosthetic until the wounds and infection were healed. The warmth of Jacob’s touch on his forehead Cain’s stomach do a little flip. “How is your fever?”   
  
He felt his face redden even more and smiled as his pulse picked up. The medication he’d taken had helped a lot but right now his body felt like it was on fire… and it wasn’t the fever. “It’s f-fine.”   
  
Both Pratt and Jacob were looking at him now. Staci gave him a knowing look and Jacob just looked confused. Because Cain was hot to the touch and probably looked like a tomato. But he couldn’t very well tell the older man _why_. “Are you sure? You feel very warm.”   
  
“F-fine,” he squeaked and took a step towards the door, not seeing the faint smile Jacob gave him as he moved into the hallway.  
  
“If you say so,” he shrugged and followed along behind, please at how easily he’d seemed to ruffle the deputy’s feathers.   
  
Pratt watched them go back and forth like that for the next month. Little touches. Little comments dropped. Catching them sneaking to hold hands or just be close to each other like a couple of teenagers. The two of them seemed to be the only ones unaware of what was happening.  
  
“So… Jacob huh?” Staci had plopped down on the end of Cain’s bed about a month later. It was harder to keep track of him now that he wasn’t stuck in bed. He’d started helping train some of Jacob’s men with weapons handling and service. They’d been going through so much ammo and gun parts because of poor weapon maintenance. Even with the men focusing now on hunting and gathering resources … Jacob had really slacked in the upkeep department. And honestly, given the older man’s appearance, Cain couldn’t really say he’d been surprised.   
  
“Jacob?” Cain smirked, knowing full well Staci knew what was going on.   
  
“You got the hots for gingers now? I thought I was your type,” his face faltered at Staci’s comment, the stab of pain that flashed through his chest bad enough that he grimaced. He knew Pratt hadn’t meant to drag up those feelings…. But Cain couldn’t help the response. “I’m sorry… I didn’t …”  
  
“It’s fine Stace… Just… still raw I guess. But uh… yeah. Jacob,” he nodded and smiled sadly. “I didn’t… it just kind of happened. We-We have a lot in common.”   
  
“I’m happy for you… I think you’re helping him too. Things have been a lot better around here. Lighter,” Staci patted his leg and stood up to leave.   
  
“Staci… wait,” Cain sat up and moved to get out of bed as Pratt headed out the door. “I never got to thank you for putting up with all my shit… all of this since I’ve been home. I didn’t … the fact that you waited all those years,” he felt his throat tightening up and had to sit back down.   
  
“You are my best friend Cain. We’ve known each other since we were like 11. I would have waited 20 years if it meant you had someone to come home to,” Pratt himself had choked up a little, letting out a little ‘oof’ as he was hugged close. The stayed like that for a moment, interrupted as Jacob cleared his throat and stepped into the room with a tray of food.   
  
“Didn’t want to interrupt,” he shrugged and moved towards them, Staci still a little uneasy around him but it was getting better with time. “The boys sent up some left-over food for dinner.”   
  
The three of them ate together relative quiet. Cain had only just started eating solid foods that week; his throat had been too sore before to manage anything beyond slurry and protein shakes. “If I never drink another protein shake it will be too soon,” he joked as he scarfed some grilled deer and looked up in surprise as Jacob also laughed, the noise almost mystifying.  
  
“I could also chew up your food for you,” he teased and Cain swallowed so hard it was almost painful, face reddening at the implication. Jacob smirked at his reaction and went back to eating like he hadn’t said anything at all. And Staci nearly choked on his drink, watching the interaction with amusement.   
  
“Staci could you … go and check the files in my office to make sure they’re organized?” Pratt snorted so hard soda came out of his nose as he scrambled to leave the room. He would make sure those files were _very_ organized.


	9. A Brother's Love is Like No Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warm fuzzies couldn't last forever and bad news has arrived in the form a single text message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided I'm just going to roll all of this into one. At least the 'sequel' part. I've deleted the prequel... I may or may not post it back up. 
> 
> This is super short but it's the connecting piece. the follow up to what happens in this story will be posted as it's own story.

Jacob would never admit it but he was enjoying having Cain around. Not having to worry about what was going on in the cages after they’d been emptied. This past month had been the best sleep he’d had in years.  
  
“You look awfully chipper,” Cain nudged his side playfully when he noticed the frown and walked down to the cafeteria for breakfast. They’d made a sort of a routine out of it. Sleeping in separate rooms to keep up the appearance that they weren’t together. Even though most of the men had already figured it out; Staci being the first after the incident with Jacob’s office. After that, they had been attempting to keep up the appearance that they were merely cooperating on training efforts and nothing more. But a few of Chosen had caught them having a romp in inappropriate places and the rumors were already circulating that they were an “item”.   
  
“I’ve had some troubling news from the Valley…”   
  
“Do I need to unretire my shovel?” that managed to get a laugh out of Jacob and he just shook his head.   
  
“It’s John… Some of his men said Joseph met him by the river during last night's baptisms. But he hasn’t returned to the Ranch. And that is not like my little brother…” the fear was rolling off the eldest Seed in waves and Cain grabbed for his hand. “I should have been keeping a better eye on him… I knew Joseph would try something.”   
  
They had stopped on their walk to breakfast when a short ping went off in Jacob’s back pocket. He pulled out the old Noki and nearly dropped it, the color draining from his face at whatever he was reading.  
  
**John: SOSSSSSSSS.ghlfghhhgfdfg  .s.** **  
****  
** “Meet me here in 20 minutes. I’m going to gather up supplies and get the truck. It’s just a small cabin in between the mountains and the valley. No one should have been able to find it. But John should be there,” Jacob showed him on a small map where he should be headed and then left Cain standing alone in the hallway wondering what the hell had just happened.  
  
   
  



	10. The Night Before and the Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph corners John during a Baptism.

  
“You have to love them brother, or they will never atone,” Joseph had surprised the youngest Seed at one of his baptisms on a cold even. The rest of John’s men left as the Father approached and nearly scattered like frightened deer.    
  
  
“Joseph…” John turned in surprise as even the woman he’d been baptizing rose up and walked past him, leaving him alone with the Father.  
  
  
“Do you have anything you would like to confess brother?” the tone, and the look he was getting over those yellow glasses, was enough to make John’s blood run cold. The hand on his shoulder squeezed harder. “A little bird told me you’ve killed my deputy…”  
  
  
“It was an accident Father. Unintentional,” John tried to back peddle out of the water but was held tighter, a hand now resting on his other shoulder, Joseph’s face hovering in front of him.  
  
  
“No John… I don’t think it _was_ an accident. Your wrath got the better of you and you killed the deputy. It wasn’t an accident. You lost…. _Control_ ,” ice cold water flooded his lungs as Joseph pushed him into the water. John scratched and clawed as his brother’s arms, trying to fight for air, trying to breathe. When he finally let go John was limp in his arms, his lips blue, and chest barely moving.   
  
  
“You were my little brother. My Herald. We could have ruled the new world together John. But your wrath… your _pride_ got the better of you,” wet fabric was torn away from his chest, the knife digging into his skin as blood dripped in rivulets under him.   
  
  
“You are my Judas. A traitor,” Joseph had carved ‘JUDAS’ in deep jagged letters across his chest and then dug the blade in deep to cut ‘SLOTH’ up his right forearm. He sliced both of John’s wrists and tossed the knife in the river.  
  
  
“Died to atone for your sins. Took your own life for betraying the Father…” John had managed to roll onto his side to vomit up the water in his lungs, the pressure from Joseph cutting into his chest enough to help him get a breath. The bank of the river was stained red with his blood. Just like Joseph's hands.  
  
  
“The people will sing of your sacrifice. _Oh John bold and brave_ ,” Joseph wandered off into the darkness singing the song that had been written for him… leaving his baby brother to bleed out on the banks of the river alone.   
  
  
The trail of blood from the river bank to his old Mustang grew larger with every pained and staggered step. The interior of his baby was ruined. Blood leaking down over the door and all over the center console. His phone screen was slick with blood and he cursed to himself, the touch screen not really working because it was wet. John had managed to make tourniquets out of the ripped remains of his sleeves. It was enough to stop the bleeding so he could drive; even if he had no idea where he would even be safe anymore.   
  
He made it to the small cabin on autopilot. Leaving the door to the Mustang wide open as he dragged himself through the woods. Leaving whoever happened to find his car right to him. The front porch and door were smeared with blood and the carpet ruined before he collapsed in the shower. He’d managed to send off an S.O.S text to Jacob. The phone functioning just enough to allow him that before the screen went black and it shut off.   
  
John just rested his head back against the shower wall and closed his eyes. Waiting for death or Jacob to find him before one of the peggies did. His drooped shut as he finally lost consciousness from all the blood loss.  
  


* * *

  
Cain had made good time to the cabin. Jacob’s directions being enough to lead him to the general area. And once he got close enough the blood all over John’s Mustang led him the rest of the way. The trail up to the door of the cabin grew larger and brighter the closer he got until he found it. The front door was wide open. Blood smeared all over the door frame and handle. He unholstered his pistol and nudged the door further open, doing a quick scan of the rooms and heading into the bathroom. The warm sticky scent of blood hit him as he pushed the door open. He felt his stomach plummet as he moved closer and stepped through the door.    
  
  
“Oh… John…” the younger man was propped up against the back of the shower, his clothes soaked through, arms lying limply in his lap. The fresh looking ‘sloth’ tattoo on his left arm was gaping open and disjointed. Blood was oozing from what appeared to be self-inflicted wounds. He reached over and wrapped the wound tightly with a towel, ripping the hem of his t-shirt to make a tourniquet. As he tied it off and rifled under the sink for a first aid kit he heard John groan in pain. He sighed, finding an excessive amount of face products and fancy shampoos but no medical supplies beyond band-aids and antiseptic spray.   
  
  
“Don’t you have anything in here beside rich people shit?” Cain growled in frustration.  
  
  
“J’us…. Go…” he turned to see John looking down at the makeshift supplies he’d used, trying to undo the tourniquet.  
  
  
“Stop… that strip of fabric is the only thing keeping you from bleeding out,” Cain itched at the back of his neck and knelt in front of him.  
  
  
“You need medical attention… blood transfusion, stitches… I can’t do that here John,” a weak hand tried to push Cain away and he sighed, reaching to the radio at his hip… not even sure who he would call. Anyone in the resistance would surely kill John… and he certainly wouldn’t find any friendship from John’s people... They’d be certain to assume he’d tried to kill their Herald. He flipped through the frequencies… hands flicking between the bright red numbers and John’s shuddering form still hunched against the back of the shower. There was only one person that came to mind…  
  
  
“….Jacob?”  
  
  
“How is he, Cain? Is he alive??” the radio crackled to life, Jacob’s rough voice making John’s eyes snap open, and flip from hazed to angry to sad in a matter of seconds. As if John’s brain was compiling all the potential reactions and this was not one of the possibilities. He squirmed and started trying to rip the tourniquet off.  
  
  
“Your brother – _Stop fucking with the tourniquet John_ \- Your little brother sliced himself up pretty good. He needs a blood transfusion and a shit ton of stitches…” the radio was now wedged between his chin and shoulder, his hands holding John’s to stop him from hurting himself.  
  
  
“Let me talk to him,” no-nonsense older brother of course… he held the radio out and pressed it against John’s cheek.  
  
  
“Jakey…” John’s voice shuttered, weak and airy, his bright blue eyes welled with tears.  
  
  
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Cain glared at the radio. Try and be helpful and get blamed for it…  
  
  
“Yes… Joseph… it hurts…” John swallowed hard enough that he could hear it, tears rolling down the younger man’s already wet cheeks. He could hear shuffling and grumbling from the radio. _Why is he talking about Joseph? Had Joseph caused this?_ __  
  
  
"Secure the area and stay with him. I'm about halfway there with Pratt and supplies. Make sure the cabin is secure…” The radio clicked off and Cain stared down at it in his hands. He scrunched his brow together and moved to get up, groaning slightly as the wounds in his legs protested. It’d been weeks but with his prosthetic still rubbing it was taking longer to heal. He tried his best to block up the doors and windows, but the tiny shack was so sparsely furnished it was nearly impossible aside from locking the doors.  
  
  
“Ok… the house is locked and your brother is on the way. So you need to just stop pulling at the fucking tourniquet for five seconds and don’t fucking die,” Cain grumbled, kneeling in front of him, fingers tucked under his chin to check his pulse. It was weak and thready … but it was still there. John rolled his head to the side to glare at him and weakly flipped him off.  
  
  
“Shoulda… left,” John garbled, almost drunkenly… his eyes squeezed shut and throat to bobbing.  
  
  
“And have the rest of your fucked up family thinking I killed you? Yeah. No,” he tried rifling through the cabinets under the sink again… hoping he might have overlooked something. He cracked his head when heard the front door rattle… that at least got a chuckle out of John. Cain cursed and rubbed his head, grabbing his rifle and placing himself between John and the door.  
  
  
“Hey pup,” there was a lightness to Jacob’s voice …. But that disappeared as he looked past Cain and saw his little brother. He shouldered past with a large bag of, what Cain hoped at least, was medical supplies. He stood there for a moment… the tension in the room thicker than the humidity. He moved towards the door but Jacob held his hand up in a hold signal.  
  
  
“We’re going to need to get him into the truck… once he’s stable he needs to get back to the hospital…” Jacob was wrestling with a transfusion bag, hanging it up on the shower knob.  
  
  
“Are you asking for my help?” Cain wanted to feel smug about it but… seeing the softness in the older man when handling his brother was … strangely endearing.    
  
  
“I need someone to sit in the truck bed with him while I drive and your hands are steadier than mind Cain,” Jacob turned as he pulled a suture kit from his supplies and held it out for him. The kit rattled even as he took it and knelt back down beside John.

“Did you bring any-” Jacob was already spraying some kind of topical numbing solution over the wound, trying not to grimace at the sight of it. The harsh broken lines of _SLOTH_ making it appear that much worse. Cain let out a slow breath. He’d done this thousands of times and stitched up thousands of wounds. Jacob hadn’t let his fingers slip from John’s pulse, watching the Deputy cautiously… fear in his eyes.   
  
  
Cain stitched it up carefully, concerned at the lack of pain response from John, and the skewed sight of the ‘SLOTH’ tattoo. He’d tried his best to line the skin up but there was so much trauma it had been difficult. He sighed and carefully wrapped it with bandages, tucking it against John’s stomach and immobilizing it to prevent him from doing more damage.  
  
  
“All right… that… that should do. Just … waiting on the blood now,” his hands, still covered in blood that wasn’t his, were shaking now, his resolve failing as bits of pieces of memories assaulted him. Jacob’s large hand touched his briefly as it took the suture kit back snapped him out of it, the older man giving him a knowing, and sympathetic, look. _Sympathizing with the Seed bothers… who’d’ve thunk…_   
  
  
“Thank you Cain” simple, straight to the point… precise. Jacob patted his shoulder and packed the bag of supplies back up. It was then that Cain realized the eeriest part about all of this was the quiet. John Seed was not a quiet man. Boistrus, stubborn… _wrathful_ … But quiet? _Never_. He steadied himself with a hand against the wall and tried to stand. The hour or so he’d been sitting in the floor raising hell on his leg and joints. He braced himself against the counter and nearly slipped, Jacob steadying him… catching him off guard.  
  
  
“Here… go pull the truck up." Cain nodded, took the keys and the bag of supplies, and made his way to the truck. He backed the busted up - red of course- truck to the door and left the door open to run back inside. But Jacob beat him through the door with John carefully draped in his arms. “There is a blanket in the back seat. Spread it out in the truck bed.”  
  
  
They managed to wrestle John into the bed of the truck, a worn deputy jacket draped over him, the red blanket tucked under him, and his head resting in Cain’s lap. The blood transfusion bag was hooked over the open back window of the pickup.  
  
  
“Here… I can’t guarantee the ride back will be without conflict... and your shovel isn't exactly good for long distance," Jacob pressed the red 9mm into his hand, a steeled look on his face. Cain just nodded, shell shocked by what had just transpired between them, by Jacob trusting him at his back with a loaded 9mm. Even if they'd been sharing a bed for the past two months... to be trusted like this was huge. He shook those thoughts away, clicked the safety off, and slid his fingers back along John’s pulse point to monitor him as the truck lurched out of the driveway.  
  
  
By some blessing they made it back to the Veterans Center without incident… pulling through the gates, however, was … dicey at best. A few peggies, curiously men that did not look like Jacob's chosen, had taken shots at him, bullets pinging off the back of the truck and a sharp stab of heat ripping through Cain’s side before Jacob called them off with the radio. Hissing in anger as they made the final distance to the doors.   
  
  
As the truck rolled to a stop, he helped ease John out of the bed of the truck, body humming with adrenaline, watching Jacob disappear inside with his brother in his arms. Cain followed behind at a slower pace, the warm wet feeling at his side growing, leaving him a walking mess of aches and pain. He curled his arm across his side and his fingers came away sticky with blood. He grunted and muscled on in the direction that Jacob had walked, not familiar with the hospital.

  
“Cain? Are you all right?” he tried to swivel around towards the voice but stumbled and had to catch himself on the wall, not realizing he’d smeared blood all along the beige paint. Someone was suddenly beside him, hands on either side of his face, trying to get him to focus.    
  
“M’fine… Fine,” he mumbled, having a hard time focusing on the person’s face… his vision starting to feather around the edges. Now was not the time for such…  _ weakness _ . Cain sighed at his own choice of words… even his thoughts had start to stray back to Jacob Seed. Someone touched his side and he hissed as he pressed backwards and slid down along the wall to sit in the floor.   
  
“Cain? Cain!?” the last thing he heard before everything went dark.    


**Author's Note:**

> Any critique/advice is always welcome. I've got 20 pages of this typed up already so if there is interest I'll probably post more relatively soon :)


End file.
